


Reawaken

by niahana



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 19:41:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13278510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niahana/pseuds/niahana
Summary: Mello, by a miracle, lives through Takada’s kidnapping, but he’s plagued by horrific nightmares. Only one person can console him. 2017 MeroNia Winter Exchange.





	Reawaken

It was warm. 

It was the kind of warmth that enveloped one’s body like a blanket. It felt so inviting that Mello wanted to stay in it forever. It was pitch black, not even a sliver of light penetrated through the darkness, but he somehow didn’t mind. As long as he could bask in comfort, he couldn’t seem to care about sight. 

He never really liked the cold. He had been subjected to it far too much in life to find it remotely pleasant. This was the kind of feeling he craved for when he walked the streets of Winchester, in an even line with the other children of Wammy’s House. It was the feeling he begged for as he sat alone in an alleyway, homeless and admittedly terrified, at just fourteen years old. Why it had come now of all times? He wasn’t sure, but Mello reveled in its visit.

The longer he enjoyed it, the heavier his thoughts would get. Soon he wasn’t able to remember where he was, or even what he was doing there. Not a single recollection could be found, and it was almost freeing. 

Mello couldn’t remember a time when he was actually not devoured by something. The mafia, Kira, himself, they all posed a threat. He had given up so many time to his desires that actually enjoying a moment of peace was out of the question. Perhaps that was why he was given this reprieve, as a reward for his sacrifice. That was the only reasoning he could think of, and while he could almost laugh at the implications, he accepted it nonetheless. 

He allowed himself to be so absorbed in this feeling that he couldn’t feel anything else. He didn’t move a single inch, he wasn’t sure if it was even possible. It wasn’t like him to be so passive, to just accept a situation. He really had no excuse beyond the fact that he was tired. Fighting for so long had exhausted him. Every day of his life had been a battle, a battle he refused to lose, and he just wanted a break. He earned that, or so he assumed, considering the bliss he finally felt. 

But he was wrong. 

Just as soon as Mello had given into the aura of joy, it melted away. 

The warmth was no longer a soft heat, but a suffocating intensity. Sweat drenched every inch of his body, and his mouth ached with dryness. He realized that it wasn’t pure darkness, but a cloud of black smoke surrounding him. He couldn’t breathe, his lungs struggled for air that wasn’t available. Mello’s eyes, filled with newfound panic searched rapidly for the source, but failed. He tried to move, tried to escape the pillowing smoke, but his body had given up. Not even a twitch of his fingers came, despite how hard he tried to move them. He was trapped. 

It was then when everything came back to him. He suddenly recalled every moment up until this point, what he had done, and why he was in this position. He was still inside the truck, that much he could assume by the close proximity. Kiyomi Takada was last in the back, but whether or not she remained there was unknown. His plan had been followed through, but what he didn’t expect was the position he found himself in. 

He had always known that he was going to die. Mello had decided that would be his end no matter what scenario played out. He had accepted that as his final act in this game he joined. The notion of dying didn’t come close to his satisfaction of what it stood for. If he needed to die to avenge L, to take down Kira once and for all, he gladly put up his life. To die like this, though, was almost ironic. He assumed he would die of a heart attack; that would have been the most fitting punishment, but he assumed Kira wanted to be more theatric.

The initial shock seemed to settle down as Mello registered more of his situation. He was in agony, but at least he understood why. He noticed the small flicker of the occasional ember that would settle into the truck. Even more, a subtle haze of red found itself glimmering in the background of the smoke. If it were any other situation, he may have found it beautiful. 

Unlike the peaceful emptiness before, he noticed his mind wavering in and out. Clearly the poison of his current situation would take him before the fire could, and while he was almost grateful for it, it still left him rather unsettled. His eyes, bright red from the irritation, looked up. He thought he would search for God, as if to ask him why this way, but he found that pointless. He had given up on God gracing him many years ago. For now, he found comfort in the solace of knowing he did he best, in whatever demented way, to seek some forgiveness. 

He tried to cough, to give some chance for new air, but his body wasn’t up for the task. As the bright red haze grew stronger, the flames finally cracking and popping in his ears, he could only allow small visions to go through his mind. They were blurry, distorted even, but ultimately a summary of his life. It went everywhere, from his rough beginnings, to finding some joy within the hard confines of his upbringing. It took him through misery, regret, happiness, anxiety, and finally acceptance. It was so dull and yet took over everything he had to offer. It showed him his past, and even something strange, like an alternate reality. Mello pictures a life that he may have had, if there were opened roads he had taken instead. They passed like a flash, but he didn’t long for it nearly as much as he thought. Whether it was good or bad, this was the life he made, and that meant more to him than any fantasy. 

Through his last moments, where his throat refused to open and his eyes fell shut, Mello didn’t feel peace. He didn’t feel that same joy he had mere moments ago, but this was no movie. He didn’t expect death to feel anything like happiness. It was miserable, and as the flames finally found their way inside the metal interior, Mello wished it would move faster. Still, despite the pain, he didn’t mind. He sat there and accepted every feeling, if only to give it more meaning. This was the sacrifice he wanted to give so the world would seek a better end than he would have. If it meant hell, then so be it. He never expected a happy ending to begin with. 

** 

With a sudden gasp, Mello’s eyes shot open. He sat up, shirt soaked and breath heavy. Confusion riddled his thoughts as he tried to process what just happened. He was no longer inside a burning truck, but in a dark room. His eyebrows furrowed, looking down at his body in shock as he tried to regain his breath. He was in a bed covered in luxurious black silk, no fire in sight. He slumped forward, hands clawing into his forward as he tried to make sense of the torture he had just been through. 

“Mello?”

Just as he felt himself falling into a state of shock, a small voice brought him back. He looked up as he felt the mattress move beside him, and suddenly was introduced to a new vision. Near was at his side, eyes heavy with sleep yet still expressing as much concern as he could muster. His white curls were a mess and his clothes where askew, but the vision somehow suited him more than normal. His voice came out calculated as expected, but it was soft, and careful. “Was it the dream?” 

“.. Near.” As Mello scanned Near for what felt like hours, as his true reality began to seep in. 

What he just experienced was real, but the ending wasn’t truth. He awaited death in that same fashion two years ago, but it never came. Just before the flamed completely overtook the church, several members of the SPK were able to locate and remove Mello before it was too late. He spent many nights in intensive care; he had suffered a lot of damage from the smoke, but he was going to survive. Through the recovery and processing, as difficult as it was, Mello found someone constantly at his side; Near. Whatever bond they had from their years as adversaries, it refused to end. In fact, it only grew stronger.

Mello’s sacrifice still wouldn’t have gone in vain, and Near managed to do what they sought out since the beginning, extinguish Kira. Mello had gotten what he wanted and lived, something he never could have expected. He reconciled with Near, and soon after decided he would do something with the new chance at life. He stopped fighting his feelings and managed to create some life with Near at his side. It didn’t stop their differences, but they managed to make it work, in both romantic and business aspects. Finally, they had fulfilled what L had always intended for them. Both worked alongside each other to continue the work L left behind, just as Mello’s supposed alternate reality saw for him that night. 

 

Though, despite how well things turned out, it didn’t come without side effects. Many nights, Mello would relive the feeling in the form of a nightmare. It came at the most unexpected times, sometimes months apart, but each felt just as strong as the one before it. Having brought himself back to speed, he finally managed to give a shaky nod to Near’s question, sifting a hand through his dampened hair. As many times as he had managed to tell himself it was a dream of the past, it couldn’t quite get rid of the feeling.

Near frowned, never finding these nights easy, especially for Mello’s sake. He tried to reach for him, but he flinched away, obviously still overwhelmed. His hand rested back in his lap as he watched over him. He had grown with experience, and yet his emotionally inept attitude still made it difficult to comfort Mello. He wanted to help in whatever way he could, but his words always fell short. By many measures, Near was one of the brightest minds the world has to offer, but that meant nothing in moments like these. 

Only when he was completely ready would Mello speak. “I.. was completely fine with dying.” His words shook as they came from his throat. “I was ready, but being sucked back into it night after night.. It’s worse than actually living through it.” 

“…” Near didn’t speak, even after Mello had finished. He too would think about what Mello had gone through, and it was often too much for him to handle. To imagine Mello’s position was simply morbid, which only made it harder to speak. Though, as he desperately tried to string together more words of understanding, he was surprised to feel a hand gripping at the one he had removed prior. 

His coal-colored eyes glanced down and up again, only to notice Mello was looking away as his grip grew tighter. “I don’t need you to tell me anything, so stop worrying about that every time this happens. It’s just something I have to work out on my own.” Mello tried to put the gruffness back in his voice, it just slightly falling short. He paused, as if trying to figure out how to word his next sentence, which only came out in a mumble. “.. Just hold my hand so I don’t feel alone.” 

At that, Near remained stunned by the confessed, but immediately softened. “Of course.“ He gently reciprocated Mello’s grip, leaning close to put just the right amount of weight on him. 

They sat there in silence, Mello slowly piecing himself together and Near patiently at his side. They would sit there for hours, until the gentle orange hue would glaze the room. They wouldn’t say a word, but feeling Near close to him was all that Mello desired. Still, the smaller male felt wrong. Each night the same thing happened, and while Mello seemed content, he felt like there was something he needed to do. 

Near’s head shift up, observing the stone-faced expression Mello wore. While he didn’t seem as affected, there was still something off. Looking closer, it was almost like Near could see a battle going on in his mind. It was an eternal wage, logic over terror, and terror always seemed to win despite how hard Mello fought. 

His pulsed quickened, lips pursed tight together. Shifting forward, Near took in a small inhale. Hesitation was rarely an emotion he wore, but it hinted just slightly as he opened his mouth to speak. “I understand that it was- difficult.”

The words immediately caught Mello’s attention, his eyes coming down while his brows shifted up in true surprise. Never one to like being caught off guard, his face quickly scrunched up, ready to debate. “Near, I told you, I don’t need—“ 

“–You did the unthinkable, Mello. You intended to give your life if it meant our victory.” Near persevered, squeezing Mello’s hand as a silent request to continue. After a moment to recover from his persistence, Mello curtly backed down, allowing him to resume. “For a world that would never know about your sacrifice, no less. It’s…” He paused, clearly in his own thoughts. ”..Something I couldn’t begin to do. It’s obvious why you can’t erase that memory.” 

To speak at all had Mello questioning Near’s health, but to hear such intimate words made it almost impossible to not be speechless. All he could do is start at him, his lips parted ever so slightly in awe. 

The look brought Near some discomfort; his vision shifted down, trying to avoid any embarrassed. Their hands came into view, still tightly entwined, fitted perfectly together. It reminded him of his goal. No matter how strange it felt to speak from pure emotion, Mello was more important. His voice came out more confident, putting faith behind truth. “I’d like you to understand that I’ll never allow you to act alone again.” With a newfound promise, Near lifted his head back up to meet Mello. "We will face any trial together, no matter the circumstance.” 

“…” For as far back as Mello could think, he never dreamed that he would hear those words from Near, or anyone for that matter. He had spent his life trying to claw his way up to achieve his best, but never once did he imagine a possibility of doing it with someone beside him. He only assumed he would do it alone, and then Near came back into his life, and finally the right way. 

Still empty for words, Mello could only stare. He silently searched the other for even an ounce of hesitation, but there was none. All he could feel was complete support and love, so much that his chest began violently thumping. Before he could stop it, tiny dots of water swelled in the corner of his eyes. He felt the walls crumbling inside him, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t force them back up. 

“Fuck…” Mello cursed in a shaky voice. He hastily wiped the tears away, but they were only replaced with larger ones. 

Just as he tried to turn away, Near caught his shoulder, forcing him still. “It’s alright.” He reassured him, his voice calm. His small hand reached up, using caution as he helped remove the wet stain from his cheek. “I am here, and I won’t leave you.” 

It was the final strike. Mello forced down a sound in his throat as he grabbed for Near. Pulling him close, he leaned forward to press their lips together, allowing the tears to freely come. Near carefully obliged, never once releasing their hands as they shared a kissed filled with everything they had yet to say. They both could feel the familiar warmth now, and this time, it wouldn’t be replaced.


End file.
